


Me Without You

by MarkieWay



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, JJP/Jinbeom, M/M, Soldier!Jaebeom, Soldier!Mark, Soldier!Youngjae, Spoiler Alert: Not A Sad Ending, markson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24406294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarkieWay/pseuds/MarkieWay
Summary: A story of me without you is one of heartache and heartbreak and everything in between. Why would you leave me? Please come back home.Angst AU. Please give it a chance.
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung, Mark Tuan/Jackson Wang
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Me Without You

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, I’m back after two weeks. I wrote this long ago and it was sad even then, like my heart was heavy but I’m still somewhat proud of my writing. But also it hasn’t been beta read or edited since, just a warning.
> 
> And I put an idol here who I really love, can you spot him?
> 
> Enjoy!

Being the boyfriend of a member of the armed forces, Jackson knew all too well the anxiety of being apart from loved ones. His other half, Mark had been deployed across the globe for almost five months now as part of a Special Forces team. There was only a month left until he was due back and Jackson found himself counting down the days eagerly. The two had been dating for years and had moved in together about a year ago, back when Mark hadn’t had special assignments for a while. Proud of his boyfriend, Jackson had celebrated with the other when Mark had been promoted but he didn’t know how he could deal with being apart for six months. Past assignments weren’t as long and he could find himself coping with the other military spouses and other halves but this was the longest post Mark had been given in his two and a half years with Special Forces. Calling every week has become their way of communicating, the occasional Skype videos here and there when the time zone differences didn’t affect them too badly but Jackson couldn’t wait to see Mark face to face.

One day, on his way back from work, Jackson found a soldier he recognised as Peniel Shin waiting outside his apartment complex. He greeted the man, smiling brightly as Mark’s friend came to visit. Jackson got along with most of his lover’s friends, Peniel being one of them. Both Mark and Peniel had been fast friends since the two joined the army around the same time and bonded together through the rough training, sharing their woes over video games and noodles. The Hong Kong native could sense something was wrong when Peniel kept his firm and stiff marching posture, his smile grim as he sighed and let out those horrible words, “I regret to inform you that Sergeant Mark Tuan has been deemed KIA - Killed In Action - as of last night.” 

“Hey don’t joke about that.” Jackson rolled his eyes at the slight racing of his heart. He understood that some soldiers liked to pull those kinds of pranks but they weren’t at all funny.

Peniel looked at Jackson with pain in his eyes, his grim expression never fading. Bringing his hand forward, he opened his palm to reveal Mark’s dog tags. “He was killed in a blast, trying to save the lives of civilians. I’m sorry, Jackson.” Taking hold of the tags, Jackson remained silent. He couldn’t believe it. As he traced them with his fingers and held them against his chest, he let the stream of tears fall down his cheeks, shaking his head and refusing to accept such cruel words. Mark was supposed to come back to him next month. This couldn’t be happening. He slumped down on the ground, bawling as his vision blurred and cursing at Peniel for bringing him such news.

Not knowing how to comfort the younger, Peniel called Jackson’s best friend, Jinyoung, who was also the husband of Mark’s platoon leader, Jaebeom. The soldier tried to help Jackson compose himself and get back to the apartment but the Hong Kong native had buried himself in his wordless sobs, blacking out once he drowned himself in his own tears and could not stop. 

As Jackson woke, he found himself back in his apartment, laying on the bed with his covers tucked tightly over him. He thought about this horrifying nightmare he had, glad that it had not seemed to be true until his gaze landed on the tags gripped tightly in his hands. Panicking, he jolted out of bed. It couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t. There was no possible way that - that Mark wouldn’t be coming back to him. The horror of the film thoughts made his chest rise, breathing uncontrollable and panting.

Rushing by his side, Jinyoung sat on the bed as he tried to help the other compose himself. The Korean told him how Peniel had relayed the information to him, how Jackson had fallen unconscious from bawling his eyes out. Apparently, Jinyoung and Peniel had used their combined strength to take Jackson back to his apartment, tucking him in before they discussed the details. Jinyoung retold the information that Mark’s body had yet to be found but they were searching everywhere and that arrangements had already been made to tell Mark’s parents. Turning into a blubbering mess, Jackson cried in his friend’s arms, grief stricken and lost as he fell into deep slumber.

In the time since hearing the bad news, Jackson had taken time off work, spending days cooped up in the apartment with only Jinyoung’s constant company to keep him alive and sane. The younger had been of great help, making sure Jackson could eat and shower and keep a normal routine of hygiene. Jackson missed his boyfriend like crazy, wearing the older’s clothes and hugging his hoodies to sleep, burying himself in the soldier’s scent. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of Mark coming back to him, after all, the body had yet to be found.

All he kept saying in his self seclusion was the words intended towards Mark, “Please come back home.” Every time he spoke aloud, it was always to Mark. “Come back now.”

A week later, the funeral had been held, all arranged by Mark’s parents who’d held Jackson in their arms and whispered sweet nothings to him in between their own tears. With a body yet to be found, the mourners looked at the closed empty casket as their tears dropped and the soldiers marched. Jackson was accompanied by friends who wrapped their arms around him as they shed their tears, no one able to compose themselves for the loss of Mark Tuan. Endless numbers of soldiers came to him, giving their apologies and telling their own sweet tales of Mark as they paid their respects. It only made it worse for Jackson. He wanted to shout out that the man wasn’t dead, that Mark was coming back, that they were crying over an empty casket when Mark would come back to him and laugh in all their faces but it was of no use.

Jackson went back to his mourning alone in the apartment and was forced to return to his job for the sake of steady income, his once happy personality turning to fake smiles and an empty mind as he went through a regular routine of work and home with tears in between. His days were the same, life menial, as he spent most of his time slumped against the wall with his head buried in his knees, his arms crossed and crying into another one of Mark’s hoodies. Jinyoung and his other friends came by every few days, spending time with him and helping him as much as they could but he remained stoic, zoning out as they tried to make him laugh. He’d been bribed to go out with things he’d previously thought to be worthwhile but without Mark, such things had no meaning. Even his parents had flown out, surprising him with a visit two weeks after they heard about Mark. His mother held her baby boy in her arms as he bawled, comforting him as he cried himself to sleep and staying by his side, running her fingers through his hair as he got some peaceful sleep.

On the day Mark’s team was due back, Jackson waited eagerly by the door, his hopes held high as he sat on the couch for hours and hours, never fading. There was a knock on the door. Sighing with relief, Jackson beamed as he stepped closer, his happy smile returning in proving he was right all along. As the door widened, his smile dropped seeing the platoon leader and Mark’s best friend, Lim Jaebeom, in his uniform. He allowed the man in and Jaebeom gave his apologies, sorry for not being there, sorry for not protecting Mark like he should have, sorry for not being at the funeral, sorry for not finding Mark and sorry for everything. Jaebeom didn’t let Jackson get a word in as he continued, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible, to not disappoint his best friend anymore.

He took a box out of his pocket and handed it to Jackson, explaining that it was for the younger and pushing it into his hands. “Before we deployed, Mark got you a ring, I went with him and he said back then that when he got back he’d take you somewhere really nice, get down on one knee and sweep you off your feet.” Jaebeom’s voice trembled as he continued, his words rushed, “He wanted me to hold onto it, he didn’t want you to accidentally find it in the apartment and I think it’s right that I give it to you. I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner.”

Before Jackson could get a word in, Jaebeom bid him goodbye and rushed out, closing the door behind him. Jackson held on to the velvet box tightly, pressing it against his chest as he kissed the top and squeezed his eyes shut. Overwhelmed. That’s what he felt. Mark was going to marry him? It was a dream of his, of course it was, but it only made Jackson’s eyes water. He opened the box, revealing a gorgeous engagement ring that was very much to his liking. Inspecting it, he eyed the engraving with the simple word ‘Markson’. Laughing lightly at Mark’s ridiculousness, he wiped his tears as he slid it on to his ring finger and kissed it dearly. He would forever and always Mark’s.

In another scene, Jaebeom had returned to the country with one less man, the loss bearing his heart heavy, the loss of his best friend. When he had returned to base, accompanied by his husband, Jaebeom went straight to Mark’s locker, taking everything out and placing it in a box below his desk. Everything made him weep, all the things were so indescribably Mark that he laughed. There were caps and photos and even a skateboard. Turning to his husband, he slumped down in Jinyoung’s arms as he let out his cries. He couldn’t believe he’d never see his best friend again, never see him laugh loudly at something so ridiculous, never hear him make those god awful jokes he loved so much, never hug the man after a long, tiring day.

As the days went by, Jackson never took off the ring. He caressed it dearly, rubbing it softly when he found himself thinking about his boyfriend, wanting to be close. Going through all their photos and videos together, Jackson doing happiness in the few minutes he could see the other smiling at him. He watched them daily sometimes, memorising the words they’d spoken and the things they’d done. Though he hadn’t visited the man’s grave, the thought of the empty casket taunting him, he wrote letters to Mark telling him all about his week and how much he missed him, sending them off as though they would be read. He kept it at. It was a form of coping and no one dared tell him it wouldn’t work the way he hoped it so he continued. On those handwritten pieces of paper, he told the older man that life without him was hard and the thought of him never coming back was not something Jackson could comprehend. He told Mark that him without the other was not a thing he had ever imagined, nor was it what he wanted. He just wanted the soldier to come back home, to him. The letters found their way to Jaebeom’s office, the leader giving a small smile each week as he received them and placed them in the box of Mark’s stuff. He too had a small piece of hope that Mark would return though he couldn’t say it out loud for the fear of being ridiculed and called out by his fellow soldiers. The body hadn’t been found, his hope rested on that fact and that Mark would go through hell to return to his Jackson.

Three months later, Jackson had been improving, moving through different stages of grief as he joined a support group for families of military. He went to work and smiled genuinely as he played with the kids in his class, meeting with friends and going out with them to new places. Though he kept the ring on and still wrote his letters, Jackson knew he was getting better when he stopped crying out in the middle of the night for his boyfriend. He’d even visited the man’s grave, though only once and never again. Over the months, he had thought about moving back across the continent to his parents but he couldn’t leave all of Mark’s things behind, he couldn’t leave their apartment behind. Still thinking of the man everyday, his hope never faltered, keeping it to himself for the fear of someone trying to convince him otherwise. He just needed that little ray of hope that would keep him going, no matter how long it took.

On one Friday afternoon when Jackson had gotten home from a half day at work, he slumped down on the bed, facing the ceiling as he held onto the framed picture that was usually on the bedside table. It was one of those pictures Mark and Jackson had taken in their early years of dating, both smiling widely into the camera as Mark held the younger by his waist from behind and Jackson took the selfie. That day, they had gone to the beach with some friends, playing volleyball against a bunch of kids and laughing as they won; they’d been so carefree and happy back then. He remembered that that night, they’d walked to their hotel tasting the sweetness of their ice cream cones, their free fingers interlocked as they strolled through the empty streets.

Smiling as he recalled those happy memories, he closed his eyes and sighed in content, going off in his thoughts. Interrupted by a loud knock on the door, Jackson placed the frame away as he trudged his body to the front of the apartment. In the doorway was a smiling Mark with bruises and cuts that looked like they had been healing, the man in his uniform locking his eyes on his boyfriend.

Not believing what he’d seen, Jackson rubbed at his eyes, his vision blurring as the tears formed. Tears he hadn’t cried in a long while coming back at the image of his boyfriend standing before him. He thumped his head at the mind games his brain had been playing, the thing playing such a cruel trick. Stepping back, Jackson turned away from the man he thought to be his boyfriend, slumping down on the floor and bawling his eyes out. God, the world was so cruel.

The figure at the door walked in, closing the door behind himself as he bent down in front of Jackson. Opening his mouth, the man whispered as he took Jackson’s hand in his, “It’s really me, baby.” That voice! Jackson’s eyes widened at the familiarity, knowing it to be the unforgettable sound of the man he loved. It was Mark. He held onto the soldier’s face, staring up in shock as his vision cleared. He knew it couldn’t be a trick of the mind, his daydreams of Mark had never spoken before.

As his thumbs grazed the older’s cuts, he gasped as he cried out, “It’s really you! It’s really you, Mark!” Grabbing hold of the other’s wrist, the older kissed the inside of it softly as he confirmed his identity. Through the corner of his eye, Mark saw the glinting of the ring and brought the younger’s hands to his lips as he kissed them all over.

Mark’s arms wrapped themselves around Jackson in a tight embrace, finally holding his lover after being apart for so long. They held onto each other as their tears streamed down their cheeks. Burying his head into the crook of the younger’s neck, Mark sighed at the sweet scent he’d missed in those months they were apart. At last he was with his boyfriend and the man was wearing his ring. Though he could have stayed like that for hours and hours, Jackson pulled them slightly apart as his hands cupped the older’s face, kissing every inch of Mark’s face, mindful of the sharp, scarring cuts.

After their sweet reunion, the two settled on the bed while Mark explained what had happened in the last few months, why he hadn’t come home sooner. Though it was an obviously known fact, Mark told the other how he had been in the blast zone trying to get civilians to safety but that when he tried to get himself out of there, he’d been knocked unconscious. An enemy group had captured him, taking him to the next town over and keeping him hostage in their hideout. He left out the part where he was tortured for information, left battered and bruised and all. Mark told Jackson he didn’t know how long ago that was or how long he’d spent there, it had felt like a year but the only thing that kept him going was coming home to his boyfriend. Someone, he suspected a spy in the network, had helped him escape while the guards were distracted, taking him to safety across the border. He told his tale of travelling through Europe to a trusted ally embassy, contacting the US military the first chance he got.

After he was able to convince the director of the military of his identity and pass the tests they’d given him, it had taken a week until he was sent on a flight back to California. Although he had wanted to come home immediately, Mark was taken to the army base where he had to file some paperwork and promise to give details at a later date. The military wanted to know how he had defied death. On his way out of the General’s office, he saw his friend, colleague and leader Jaebeom who, much like Jackson, couldn’t believe what he’d seen. They shared a heartfelt reunion, some tears escaping from their eyes before they headed to the team office space. He reunited with his team and hugged them dearly as they all fell to the floor and bowed down at him. He ruffled Youngjae’s hair, smiling at his favourite teammate as the younger refused to let go of him. Jaebeom gave him a box of his stuff, the content fuller than he last remembered and begged his leader to take him to the apartment to meet with Jackson.

Laying on the bed as two tightly embraced lovers, Jackson listened to Mark’s steady heart beat as they were enveloped in the otherwise silence, their fingers fiddling together as they rested on the older’s stomach. Mark rubbed the younger’s back with his free hand, stroking it ever so lightly as he comforted his lover. Closing their eyes, they let themselves fall into a comfortable silence, only needing each other’s company in that moment. Though they had so much to say to one another, nothing would come out of their mouths, savouring the moment with the rapid beating of their hearts. Interrupted by a loud knocking, the younger sighed as he pulled away from his lover but Mark wouldn’t let him go. They opened the door together with Mark hugging him from behind and trudging along with him to reveal their startled friends Yugyeom and Bambam.

Blubbering and crying in front of the couple, Bambam and Yugyeom jumped at the soldier, forming a group hug at the amazement of such a situation. Their fellow friend, Youngjae, had called them, equally as tearful as he squeaked out the tremendous news. At first, they had thought it was a cruel trick but the other would never do such a thing, then they thought Youngjae was going through another emotionally draining time. They’d comforted their friend but the older one was insistent and told them to go see for themselves at the apartment and so, here they were. Speechless and curious, they raced over dropping everything like a hot potato.

To them, the past few months had been horrible. Being without their hyung was daunting; it was a life they struggled adjusting to and they even found themselves texting the older’s phone on a few drunken occasions. Bambam had known the soldier half his life, being practically raised by him when his mother was busy working. The older looked after him, taking him to new places and teaching him new things in his teen years. Their bond had grown as close as brothers; he’d even been gifted his first pair of designer shoes by the older. Though Yugyeom had met him a little later in life, that had nothing on the strength of their bond. Mark had always been the most encouraging to the youngest in their friend group, persuading him to go after his dreams and taking care of him in the moments where he felt he had no one. A loss like that broke them.

Twenty minutes away, Jaebeom had gotten home to Jinyoung and buried himself in the younger’s arms, holding on tightly as he released the stream of joyful tears. To say Jinyoung was surprised would be an understatement; he stumbled at the force of the older man wrapped around him, patting the soldier’s back and whispering words of comfort. He hasn’t understood what was going on. Repeating the words ‘he’s back’ into his husband’s shoulder, Jaebeom finally looked up, explaining the situation, though he was shut down by the younger who spoke softly as he reminded him of Mark’s status.

“No, you don’t understand.” Jaebeom presses on, pleading with his husband to just listen, “Mark is alive and well, he came to the base today and I still have his stuff in the trunk of my car and I drove him to his apartment.” He paused momentarily, composing himself, “He’s there right now.”

Jinyoung stilled. Mark was really alive? Dizzy at the thought, he demanded Jaebeom take him to the Markson couple’s apartment at that very instant. Dragging his husband out with him and hopping into their car, they hurried to the apartment complex, going only a little over the speed limit as they did. Mark Tuan was a special person to each and every one of them and to Jinyoung, he was like a brother. Even when he thought he had been handling himself quite well, Jinyoung still found moments alone in the time the soldier was gone to hold onto something that reminded him of the man he’d met as a teen, skateboarding and martial arts tricking with a bright and toothy smile. To be able to see him again? The Korean had no words.

Spotting Youngjae staring up at the window of the one that was home to what was once thought to be a fallen friend, the married couple held the younger’s hand and together, they went up. The youngest soldier of the three had always admired the way that Mark had strived to perfection in everything he did yet remained humble. It had been a surprising trait at first, one that inspired him to work harder and do better. He had felt sorry he hadn’t been with the team in the field back when the tragic event happened, feeling even more upset when he’d gone to the funeral and said his last goodbyes. Though he’d been getting used to not seeing the older, he did very much miss the man who helped him find the one breed of dog in the world he wasn’t allergic to.

As they found the other four in a group hug and pulled themselves into it, the seven finally reunited in an extraordinary moment that they would remember for all of eternity. To the six of them, their hyung had risen from the ashes and defied the concept of death itself. To Mark, he was back with some of the most precious people in his life.

Settling back to regular life proved to be quite difficult. In the legal sense, Mark had come back to the identity of a registered deceased person which meant a lot of paperwork even with the military’s assistance. His next of kin being his parents, they’d kept all his possessions in their Arcadia home, making it much easier to deal with; the return of their son had been an overwhelming moment and his mother had never wanted to let him go. She had insisted he and Jackson stay in their family home for the time being and though he had declined that offer, he had promised to come back at least once a week for a family dinner.

In the everyday sense, Mark had been assigned to work permanently at the army base along with a few of his colleagues, Jaebeom and Youngjae included, his schedule focusing on reports and training others. As a kind of healing process, it was meant to contrast the mental and physical toll of being on a Special Forces team. Truth be told, it sucked being stuck behind a desk and teaching new recruits the basics of the base; he missed the action and pride of fighting for his country. Though, despite it all, the largest benefit by far as going home to Jackson everyday. Getting to see his boyfriend, now fiancé, after a long day at work, hugging him from behind when the other was busy prepping dinner for the two, having ended the working day earlier than him, and kissing the younger’s cheek sweetly. Being able to hold his lover’s hand across the table as they ate and talked about all the little things in life, no longer having to keep quiet because of all the confidential information disclosed. It was nice.

Recovery, though, wasn’t easy. Of course it wouldn’t be. Those months had taken such a mental toll on them that both Mark and Jackson had to deal with recurring nightmares but at least they had each other for comfort. Whenever Jackson had nightmares, he’d stir in his sleep, eventually thrashing as sweat beaded down his skin and his legs kicked about. Then, Mark would always pull him closer into his chest and stroke his back, whispering “I’m here, I’m here.” as he kissed the younger’s forehead. He’d hold his boyfriend close to him, watching as the man calmed down in his arms and breath more evenly.

Having faced more brutal action, Mark’s nightmares were more frightening. He’d sit up as he woke, breathing heavily and panting, alarmed at the concoctions of his dreams. Feeling the older shift in his own sleepy state, Jackson too would wake, rubbing the soldier’s arms and telling him it’s okay, that he’s home. He’d kiss his way up the older’s arm and lean into him, pulling him back to bed as he wrapped himself tightly around his boyfriend. Knowing he’d been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Mark worked hard on getting better and his therapist had told him it was going well. At Jackson’s suggestion, he joined a support group for soldiers, talking amongst others who had gone through some similar things as he did, all having their own stories to tell. It took a while before any real progress, in his eyes, could happen but he was glad when it did; he knew he wasn’t the only one struggling. Sometimes, in their moments of weakness, his group of friends would find random moments to hold on to him or hug him or do anything that required his touch. He didn’t mind, he welcomed it.

One Saturday, after a week of increasingly happy smiles and only a few bad dreams on both ends, Mark took hold of Jackson’s hand, tugging him along to the car and drove to the beach. To be at the beach during sunset, few people around but surrounded by the sound of the waves and the tide coming in, was a beautiful sight. Walking along the sand hand in hand, the older man stopped in line with the setting sun as he slid the precious ring off of Jackson’s finger. He kissed it dearly, looking at his love, holding the other’s hands in his, a sweet kiss on the back of each one. Staring into his lover’s eyes intently as he spoke, the soldier took a breath, “I know you’ve been wearing this ring for some time now and it’s not really a surprise but I love you and you deserve a proper proposal.” 

Bent down on one knee, he held the ring up, telling the younger everything he loved about the man, laughing at his own little jokes. Ranting on and on, he took another breath, the other man still holding onto his hands tightly in silence, “I read the letters you wrote me and I promise to write back to every one of them.” Those letters had been an emotional trip for both the writer and the intended reader and though not too heavy in content, the weight of it all made their hearts cry out for each other. In actual fact, Mark had already begun writing back, pairing each of the younger’s letters with his own.

“Will you marry me?” Mark proposed.

By then, Jackson had already been crying and managed to nod his eager head. They hadn’t talked about the ring or their new relationship status and the younger definitely hadn’t expected such a sweet, private proposal. He was glad that in that moment, it was just the two of them. Sliding the ring back on the younger’s finger, Mark kissed his hand. As he got up, Jackson jumped into his arms, his legs hooked around the older’s waist, and cupped his face as he dived in for a kiss full of passion.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel it, like it? Let me know through your kudos and comments!
> 
> Let’s play a game though, can you spent the tv show references I used and what I was inspired by?
> 
> On the next note, I have a series I will be starting soon, probably next week so please look forward to it! In the meantime, find me on twitter: MarkieTWay
> 
> Lowkey I’m upset MarkieWay was taken


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